The Interview with Shaun Gladwell
Shaun Gladwell, Spazio Tarocchi (Piazza San Marco), 2025. Production Still. Cinematography, David Clark. Commissioner, Rinaldo Di Stasio. Image Courtesy of the artist and PALAS, Sydney.
From skateboarding through Milan’s Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II to scaling the ornate lamp posts of Venice’s Piazza San Marco, iconic Australian artist Shaun Gladwell places his body and mind in direct dialogue with Italy’s grand civic architecture. In a newly commissioned multi-channel moving-image work for restaurant Di Stasio Città, Gladwell brings that dialogue home – weaving together Australian sensibility and Italian attitude in the heart of Melbourne.
For this edition of The Interview, we sit down with Shaun Gladwell to discuss the making of this ambitious new work, the artist patron relationship with Rinaldo Di Stasio, and what it means to live with art, not as a backdrop, but as a daily presence.
What is the core idea behind this new moving image work?
It’s interesting to talk about a “core” idea, because for me there’s a kind of democracy of ideas within a project. Some are there before I begin; others emerge during the making; and still others only reveal themselves once the work is finished.
With Spazio Tarocchi, the initial impulse was to work across sites in Australia and Italy — places where performance could enter into direct dialogue with architecture and civic space. I’ve spent time in Italy over the years thinking about how I might base creative processes there. The driving question became: how can architecture be recoded? How can a civic space be used in ways it wasn’t originally designed for?
The work surveys performances from Sydney and Melbourne through to Milan, Rome, Venice and Naples. Across these locations, I’m interested in subtly rethinking the intended function of architecture — not to disrupt it destructively, but to reveal its possibilities.
What draws you to the Di Stasio Città space, and how have you responded to the atmosphere of the restaurant?
What immediately drew me to the space is that it’s first and foremost a functioning restaurant. It has a primary purpose — hospitality — which makes it different from a gallery or museum. That’s an exciting challenge.
I’m interested in questioning the intended function of spaces and institutions. So the question became: can a museum-grade moving image installation live inside a restaurant? Not just screen-based work, but an installation that carries its own spatial logic.
Rather than simply “responding” to the atmosphere, the work becomes part of it. The atmosphere shifts because the artwork is present. It’s not a passive response; it’s a contribution. Over time, the piece becomes woven into the daily life of the space.
Why is public engagement so important in your work and creative practice?
Public space is where the action is. It’s where you encounter the unpredictability of people, the real texture of civic life. Whether it’s public transport, a library, or a city square, you’re in contact with something collective and shared.
There’s something egalitarian about that. Public space can’t be fully controlled — it’s authored by the public themselves. That unpredictability and informality are energising.
From graffiti and skateboarding in my youth to the work I make now, I’ve always been drawn to public environments. They carry a kind of live charge that’s hard to replicate elsewhere.
Who inspires you these days and why? And this could be someone or something or some place.
Right now, I’m inspired by a new generation of athletes coming through action and alternative sports like skateboarding, surfing, climbing, and BMX. The level of skill and inventiveness is extraordinary.
These were subcultures I was involved in as a kid and as an adult. Now I’m watching them evolve into highly sophisticated languages. That development is happening within my lifetime, and that’s thrilling.
It extends into visual art, too. I don’t see those worlds as separate. I still train, collaborate and perform across generations. Staying in dialogue with younger practitioners keeps the work alive.
Tell us about your relationship with Rinaldo di Stasio. What's it like working with a patron over such a long period of time?
Working with Rinaldo has allowed a shared language to develop over time. That doesn’t happen quickly — it’s more like a long gestation. Ideas are given space to mature and transform.
In this case, that dialogue has unfolded over more than a decade. There were years of conversation, and then two years of fieldwork, with Rinaldo and Mallory (his partner in life and business) helping shape timing and context through their knowledge of the places we visited in Italy.
It’s also a friendship, which shifts the dynamic. It becomes less transactional and more collaborative. We’re thinking through ideas together rather than simply delivering a commission. That long-term trust changes the methodology of making the work.
Given that you often shoot outside, in public spaces, what legal blind spots did you discover the hard way?
When you work in public space — especially doing physically demanding or unusual performances — a legal response is almost inevitable. Police will approach. Sometimes it’s about safety; sometimes it’s about concern for the site or for the performer.
You have to be prepared for that. The key is to communicate quickly and clearly that you’re not a threat — not to yourself, not to the public, not to the architecture. The faster that’s understood, the smoother the encounter.
There isn’t one fixed formula — it changes from site to site — but you do need a plan. You have to anticipate the questions and be ready to answer them calmly. The work might push against gravity, but it shouldn’t push against people in an aggressive way. Once that’s clear, the atmosphere changes.
Quick fire questions with Shaun:
Which contemporary artist do you feel in quiet dialog with right now?
Francis Alÿs.
If your practice had a soundtrack, what would it be?
Either an album by Meredith Monk or The Disintegration Loops by William Basinski.
What book are you reading right now?
The Burnout Society by Byung-Chul Han.
Where are you traveling to next and why?
I’m heading to Bundanon in the Shoalhaven region of New South Wales for a residency at the former studio and homestead of Arthur Boyd.
What's your favourite dish at Di Stasio Città?
The Miranda — the “after-school sandwich.” It’s portable, generous and has been part of my life for over a decade. It rocks.
Spazio Tarocchi is now on view at Di Stasio Città, 45 Spring St, Melbourne. Discover more about Spazio Di Stasio and Aurelian’s involvement here.